Much
of 1942 was spent working on his autobiography, Seeking The Bubble,
which Esmond dictated to his secretary, Annabella Cloudsley. The book
was published the following year by Hutchinson & Co. and is a
fascinating account of his life up to and including New Years Day 1942,
where the story breaks off with Esmond having nothing much to do,
contemplating, quite contentedly, what the future might bring and
expressing hopes of a revitalisation in the British theatre when the war
is over. Each chapter is headed by a quote from Shakespeare, and
the title is taken from the Seven Ages of Man speech in As You
Like It:

Then a soldier, full of strange oaths and bearded like
the bard,

Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation,

Even in the cannon's mouth.

Although fascinating and enlightening for anyone
interested in his life, Esmond was later quite disparaging towards
his own book. Always self-critical, he thought it was rather paltrily
written and
felt
he could have done a much better job had he waited a few more years
until he was more proficient at a typewriter, which he became after the
war - Rosalind remembers vividly the sound of him tapping away fast and
furiously in the study of his home in Bywater Street.

Seeking The Bubble, the autobiography
dictated by Esmond in 1942 whilst
still totally blind. This is the soft cover version. u

The book was published in two versions, one with nine
illustrations and the other, in conjunction with the National Book
Association with just the frontispiece - a reproduction of the Alexander
Christie painting of Esmond as a young man wearing traditional
falconers' attire and with a falcon on his arm.

Occasional work came
Esmond's way at this time including another radio broadcast,
prophetically a piece called Henry
At Agincourt with Marius Goring in
which he played Henry V. He was also asked to present his own
weekly radio programme called Make
And Mend in which he told stories
about the navy and sailors. He had to research and plan the
programmes himself as well as memorise the scripts - quite a
challenge when completely blind. But it gave him a substantial
project on which to focus and was a success.

Starting in the spring of 1942, as his part
towards the war effort, Esmond began giving morale boosting
talks about his life and experiences to British workers in
factories involved in war production (of which there were
thousands). He was an entertaining speaker and commanded great
respect, particularly in navy uniform as a well known actor who
had "done his bit" and been blinded in action.

But he was not making a living, and he remained
grateful for the rest of his life for the help and support
offered to him by St Dunstan's. This included the opportunity
for Rosamund to attend Cheltenham Ladies' College as one of the
college governors was also a governor of St Dunstan's, and there
she remained until she began her own acting career with the
Young Vic Company.

Esmond
hoped more than anything that somehow he might be able to resume his
acting career. Being totally blind was a major handicap and so he
started to consult specialists to see if anything could be done to
restore at least some sight to his right eye. In all he saw four of the
most eminent eye specialists in the country including, in the summer of
1942, Sir Stuart Duke-Elder, the founder of the Institute of
Opthalmology and said to be the finest eye surgeon in Great Britain at
the time. But the response from them all was always negative, even from
Duke-Elder who gave no hope at all and advised Esmond to "stop hoping
and get used to the idea of being a blind man." Despite this
depressing news, Esmond refused to give up hope entirely.

pSir Stuart
Duke-Elder FRS (1899-1978), regarded by many as the finest
opthalmologist of his day.

Even he was unable to give Esmond hope
that he would regain any sight at all in his right eye.

Meanwhile it was
Michael Powell who gave Esmond the opportunity to work on a film set
again. Powell had cast him in several films before the war and had badly
wanted him to play the part of Lieutenant Hirth in 49th Parallel,
but Esmond was unavailable having committed to the RNVR. Now, in
partnership with Emeric Pressburger, he was producing a propaganda film,
The Silver Fleet, and offered him a small role. Esmond was
delighted but anxious that he would be able to pull it off, especially
finding his way around the film set at Denham. But Powell was very
reassuring told him, "I'm sure we can work things out." On this
occasion Michael Powell did not direct. Ironically the director was
Esmond's old friend Vernon Sewell, the very man who had encouraged
Esmond to sign up for the RNVR.

The Silver
Fleet tells the story of a Dutch shipbuilder who fakes collaboration
with the Germans whilst secretly encouraging resistance and ultimately
sabotage of their own efforts. Esmond hoped for, and got, a nasty
character to play, that of Von Schiffer a ruthless Nazi Gauleiter, his
intention being that if he played an unsympathetic character that
audiences would not feel feel sympathy for him personally "....so
that it kind of took the curse off the thing." He achieved his aim
quite brilliantly, portraying Von Schiffer as an uncouth buffoon who is
outwitted even when interrogating a little girl, yet never losing an
underlying sense of danger.

In
September 1942 Theatre World magazine interviewed him on the set
of The Silver Fleet which was being produced at Denham Studios
where he described himself at the time as "a rather unglorified
mixture of Erich von Stroheim and Lon Chaney." The article
continued: "Playgoers who saw his breath-taking performance as the
Chief Engineer of the Arts in The Insect Play a couple of years before
the war will know that apart from being able to look like an inhuman
tyrant, Esmond can assume the Prussian manner to perfection. He learned
a good deal about German temperament, character, and customs during the
summer of 1935, while living in Berlin for the making of the film Black
Roses, in which he played opposite Lillian Harvey. Having scored
such a success at the microphone, and now before the movie camera, this
young actor's return to the footlights is awaited with even keener
interest."

Esmond in The Silver Fleet
(1943) as the German Gestapo officer, Von Schiffer, messily eating
spaghetti with a spoon. When he filmed his scenes at Denham Studios in
the autumn of 1942, Esmond was still totally blind, but he pulled off
the illusion to perfection with much rehearsal and assistance from his
fellow actors. Some of the scarring around his forehead and temple from
his injuries can clearly be seen in this still.p

Esmond achieved
exactly what he had hoped for - the illusion that on screen (and later
on stage) he was perfectly able to play fully sighted men. The part
involved negotiating narrow gangplanks, climbing into the conning tower
of a submarine, walking downstairs, picking up a telephone, and eating a
meal - all of which Esmond managed with sympathetic direction from
Sewell and the support of fellow actors. There is only one very
slight giveaway which at the time would have gone unnoticed by cinema
audiences. In a scene where Esmond, as Von Schiffer, walks through the
doorway into Ralph Richardson's office, the Nazi officer behind and to
the left of him can be seen gently steering him by the elbow.

Powell may have taken a chance on casting Esmond, but his
decision was thoroughly vindicated. The reviews when the film was
released in March 1943 were excellent. The Picturegoer (March
20th 1940) wrote: "Esmond Knight, completely overcoming the
disability of his blindness, scores as the ruthless Gestapo chief."
Another review described his performance as "stunningly menacing".

The illusion that Esmond could see perfectly well was not
restricted to his work. In 1942 he visited Wilson Barrett at his London
flat which Barrett recalled in his book On Stage For Notes: "
..to see him in my flat, standing with his back to the fireplace
laughing and joking, talking as usual so quickly that his words tumbled
over one another because his tongue couldn't keep pace with his
thoughts, no one could have had any idea that he had a care in the
world. The only indication one had of his blindness was when his wife
cut up his meat for him at lunch, and that hit me across the face like a
whip, because he had made me completely forget it up until then."

Others her not so helpful at the dining table. In his
book As The Falcon Her Bells, Phillip Glasier recalls an incident
at around this time when he and Esmond were both lunching at Chas
Knight's home in Kent, Quebec Cottage, and Esmond was still totally
blind. "He was amazingly cheerful, and we pulled his leg by handing
him the pepper-mill when he asked for the fish-paste. 'Swines,'
he would mutter, 'trying to poison me!' and would roar with
laughter."

Demands on Esmond's time were now made in other ways too.
On El Alemain Night at Earls Court he recited a patriotic poem written
especially for the occasion by the Chaplain General. Afterwards he
was introduced to General Montgomery who complimented him on his recital
and was later heard remarking loudly to his A.D.C.: "Blind in the
left eye, you know!" On another occasion he was asked by
Malcolm Sargent to appear at the Royal Albert Hall in The Bells,
a piece written about the church bells that would ring in the event of
an invasion or when the War was over. This time he recited a poem by
Laurence Vinyon and by all accounts Sargent was delighted with his
performance.

On 16th June 1943 Esmond sang in Seventy Years of
Song, produced by C B Cochrane at the Royal Albert Hall. Cochrane
wrote a charming "thank you" letter after the even which Esmond kept for
the rest of his life.

And on 22nd October 1943, Trafalgar Day, he stood in
front of a huge crowd in Trafalgar Square as part of a morale boosting
and fun raising event and read a new poem which had been written
specially for the occasion by poet laureate John Masefield